Guac, Guac, annnd...Guac

Instead of jumping right into a five-course meal in our first post, we thought we'd feature a few guacamoles we made to take to a recent wine-tasting party.

GREGG: Uncertain as to what ingredients go into a good guacamole, and wanting one of our three varieties to have a kick, I googled the term "hot guac" before we began, and shielded my eyes in case the interwebs treated that term as a bit risque.

Not to worry...the search returned with a PG rating. It provided many links to several different guacamole recipes, including one that used a dollop of mayonnaise as a secret ingredient for extra creaminess.

JESSICA: Ewwww, mayonnaise. No. Never.

GREGG: In the end, we decided to go with a very simple variety for two of them: avocado, roasted garlic, fresh cilantro, salt, pepper, and lime juice. And in the one that I was hoping would have a bit of shock and awe, I added crushed red pepper, chipotle powder, and about 10 drops of Tabasco.

The hot one delivered a bit of a slow burn, but I think for my next effort, I need to add some finely diced jalapeño, and maybe 30(ish) drops of hot sauce to tickle the palate.

My proudest moment of this lesson was learning how to efficiently pit an avocado. I'd heard of the method of thwapping it with a knife and twisting, but had never tried it.


After slicing all three avocados lengthwise, I aimed for my first thwap. If the thwap was too weak, the knife would just twist in the pit, and the pit wouldn't move.

If the thwap was off center by too much...well, we don't want to think about that. (I'm happy to say I still have all of my digits, and none of them have bandaged slices.)

My thwaps were dead-on, and hard enough, and soon the avocados were pitted, and we were left with six halves.

My next question revealed my rookie status in the kitchen, when I asked the Head Chef how we should peel them, and she answered...

JESSICA: "Or you could scoop them."

GREGG: Amateur foodie question No. 74 asked, and answered. She handed me a spoon and I transferred the avocado innards to a plate.

JESSICA: Meanwhile, I gathered ingredients for the third offering, a chunky guacamole laden with veggies I picked from the T's garden. I roasted glossy poblano peppers, diced sweet orange tomatoes, sawed sugary corn off the cob, and diced the avocado that Gregg had so nicely—and expertly—halved. A ladleful of black beans, handful of minced cilantro, small clove of smashed garlic, generous squeeze of lime juice, and salt and pepper rounded out the dish.

GREGG: I've tasted bad guacamole in restaurants before, and didn't know what exactly made a good or bad guac when beginning this simple venture. I think what saved mine was mashing it with the back of a fork until it had the creamy consistency I was seeking, and then...mashing it even more.

JESSICA: Just mash it, Gregg, maaaash it (said in my best I-lived-in-the-South for seven years accent).

GREGG: The hot guac was a fun experiment, and I'll aim to improve it in the future, but Jessica's chunky guacamole mixture earns my vote for best tasting of the three.

JESSICA: Awww, that's sweet. But your two mashed concoctions were very popular with the wine club gang, and looked appealing with the garnish of cilantro and lime. And they were just so...smoooooth. All that mashing worked wonders.

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READER INPUT: What's your secret for a hot and sassy guacamole?!?